


shine

by onbeinganangel



Series: kinkuary 2021 [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, Developing Relationship, Dubious Consent, F/F, HP Kinkuary 2021, Internalised Kinkshaming, Kink Exploration, Sexual Fantasy, Somnophilia, but i'm keeping it that way because of the dubious consent, literally no idea how to tag this i'll write shit on the notes i promise, you know what i don't even think this should be rated E
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29264106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onbeinganangel/pseuds/onbeinganangel
Summary: It’s different now they share a bed. It’s different now they share a life. It’s different now Luna is not in her blue trimmed uniform, wrapped in a brown tatty blanket. Luna is in their bed, in their house, and she wears soft silk nightgowns in pastel colours with thin lace straps. Her hair is even longer than it was before and Ginny wakes up with it on her face and in her mouth and tickling her shoulders and arms.
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Series: kinkuary 2021 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137662
Comments: 12
Kudos: 50
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021





	shine

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, you know that whole "I don't have any control over what I write, the characters do what they want" thing? This is a prime example.
> 
> This was meant to be a wee bit of consensual sleepy porn, but we have 10% soft barely-smut, 70% exploration of internalised kink shaming and 20% love letter to patient, unconditionally loving partners.
> 
> I don’t know how we got here but this is what we have. Merry Sunday!
> 
> Beta readers are angels and I owe [Uphorie](https://uphorie.tumblr.com) my whole life at this point.

Ginny Weasley shares a dormitory with four other Gryffindors for five years. She knows that Jones’ snores sound like rolling thunder, she knows Moore’s bedtime routine by heart, she knows that Harris can’t sleep without socks on even in the summer and that Powell has night terrors she wakes up crying from — and that is _before the war._

She doesn’t sleep in the dormitory much during her sixth year, opting to share the little hammock-like beds the Room of Requirement provides them with. By the end of it, their little resistance movement is more than just the old Dumbledore’s Army folks, but still no more than a dozen of kids too scared and too tired and too worried to stop fighting. By April, even Neville’s spirits are down in the dumps and there are plenty of girls sleeping there at night. The Patils, Cho Chang, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones. At one point, they have a tiny Slytherin second year called Jessica stay for a couple of nights. And of course, Luna.

Ginny remembers the first time she watches Luna sleeping. Face soft and open, as always. They sleep in their uniforms, then, wrapped in their black school robes and the ugly brown blankets the Room provides.

She remembers watching Luna conjure a little ceramic dish every night where she carefully places her dangly earrings and her wand. She then places the dish on the floor under her hammock, before tucking herself tightly in the blanket and falling asleep.

Luna’s eyes twitch for a few seconds, then her mouth goes slack and she’s asleep. Ginny is jealous of that ability, as she lies in her own hammock and wonders where Harry is. Where Ron is. Where Hermione is. If mum is safe. Dad. Bill. Charlie. Even Percy. The twins. She stares at the high ceiling of the Room and then stares at Luna with her open mouth and her soft rhythmic breaths and the way her hair cascades down her shoulder and off the hammock and trails down — like threads of sunshine gold. 

* * *

The Burrow is suffocating to be in after the Battle. There is a clear empty gap no one knows how to fill and everyone’s coping mechanisms clashes with the others’. When Xenophilius Lovegood passes, Ginny puts her black robes back on like she never took them off and holds Luna’s hand. She stays with Luna for the week, despite her mum’s worries. After the week, she comes back to the Burrow, packs her trunk and walks the hill over to Luna’s.

It feels right.

They dance around each other for a few weeks.

Luna kisses her one evening, soft and gentle lips pushing against hers, asking for permission. Ginny realises what she feels is what love feels like. 

Not everything is easy. But they have a life, a routine — something theirs.

Luna reads about Magical Creatures all day. The dining table is constantly covered in books and pieces of parchment in a specific kind of organised chaos that only Luna understands. 

Ginny works out all morning and flies all afternoon. She comes up with a new Chaser manoeuvre. They’ll call it The Weasley, she tells herself. She just needs a team to give her a chance.

Luna still goes to bed the same way she did during the war, dropping her earrings and wand in a dish by the bed, tucking herself in and falling asleep in minutes.

It’s different now they share a bed. It’s different now they share a life. It’s different now Luna is not in her blue trimmed uniform, wrapped in a brown tatty blanket. Luna is in their bed, in their house, and she wears soft silk nightgowns in pastel colours with thin lace straps. Her hair is even longer than it was before and Ginny wakes up with it on her face and in her mouth and tickling her shoulders and arms. 

Ginny spends a couple of weeks worrying about how much she enjoys watching Luna when she sleeps. It’s slowly taken newer, bigger proportions, something she’s not quite sure how to feel about but that weighs her down, making itself present, right in the middle of her chest. She lays very still in bed at night and watches Luna — the curve of her breasts, the shape of her waist, the bit where the waist meets hip where all the fabric of her nighty has bunched up. Her soft lips, puffing out air in slow steady breaths, her thighs and her bum. 

And she feels wrong for thinking about touching her, about reaching out and running her hands all over Luna, but she falls asleep with that familiar feeling of wetness in her pants and she wakes up feeling tired and cranky.

After a couple of weeks of this, Luna, being Luna, asks Ginny over breakfast what’s gotten her aura so cloudy and Ginny almost spits tea everywhere.

“Are you sleeping well, honey? Is it sleep?”

Ginny wants to cry. It is sleep, _indeed_.

For a minute, she sits in silence, heart thumping away in her chest, wishing it was anything else. Anything. Something that made her feel less wrong. She didn’t even know she felt this off about it until now. Until the moment she has to say it out loud.

Luna knows her, she reminds herself. They fought in a war together at age 16. She’s seen the worst of Ginny.

“I— I want to touch you when you’re asleep.”

Luna’s gorgeous blue eyes open very wide but her kind expression remains. She lifts herself off her chair and walks around the table, to kneel at Ginny’s feet.

“You can touch me,” Luna says. “You can touch me, when you want. While I’m asleep.”

“But it’s… wrong,” Ginny says, voice clipped.

“Gin, that’s for me to decide. It’s not wrong. It’s fine. I want you to touch me,” she says and grabs Ginny’s hand and places it on her chest, right in the middle, under her own hand. “I want you to touch me.”

“You do?”

Luna has a dreamy look on her face, then, eyes sincere as she says:

“It sounds lovely. Being woken up by your love.”

Ginny falls asleep easy that night, wrapped in Luna’s embrace.

* * *

The sun is low in the sky when Ginny wakes up. The house is humming happily in the early spring morning, the room is warm enough that sticking a bare leg out of the covers doesn’t make Ginny shiver.

Luna looks lovely. Her hair is plaited down in two long ropes, falling either side of her face. She’s on her side, facing Ginny, curled up around herself. 

Ginny forces herself to look guiltlessly — or nearly so. 

“I want you to touch me. I’d like that,” Luna had said last night, before bed. Ginny had wondered if she’d expected her to touch her last night, after she’d fallen asleep. The way Ginny had thought of so many times. “I love you,” Luna had said, too.

 _They’ve had plenty of sex. Ginny knows what Luna likes. She can be gentle._ It’s easy to go through all these thoughts before she brings herself to reach out.

When she does, she touches Luna’s neck first. She recoils into herself immediately, the guilt sinking into her body through every possible crevice. 

She takes a long shaky breath before hopping out of bed and heading into the shower. She’ll try again tomorrow.

It’s hard not to feel like she doesn’t deserve Luna. Luna who makes her eggs for breakfast just the way she likes them. Luna who shouts out of the window that she’s been flying for hours and needs a break. Luna who coaxes orgasms out of her with her fingers and her mouth and whispers into her ears as she does. “I want you to touch me when I’m asleep,” or, “I’d like to wake up to your hands on me,” and “let me help you feel good.”

When Ginny finally does, almost four weeks after the subject first came up, she’s more turned on than ever, as she lets her hand trail down Luna’s neck and chest, as she softly caresses her breasts, her side, the curve of her bare arse.

Gently, as to not wake her up too soon, Ginny’s lips touch Luna’s hardening nipples over her violet nighty as her hand makes her way between Luna’s legs.

Luna sighs, happily, contented, still asleep, and Ginny isn’t sure she’s ever felt that much love before.

**Author's Note:**

> for a more hyperactive and extremely chatty version of me, come say hi [on tumblr](https://onbeinganangel.tumblr.com)


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